


Judgement Day

by thewightknight



Series: Champion of the Just [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2819750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ser Barris has no idea why he's been summoned to Skyhold by the Inquisitor</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Judgement Day

**Author's Note:**

> Ser Barris seems to be greatly under-represented in fic and fan art. I am sad.

Ser Barris had been hoping for a few private minutes with the Inquisitor when he arrived at Skyhold, but she had either been shut up in the war room with her advisors or deep in conversation every time he went in search of her. So now he found himself standing in the crowd as she sat in Judgement over some minor affairs (did they just say that man threw a *goat* at the fortress?) with no idea why he had been summoned. So it was a shock to him when Commander Cullen called out his name. Review of his military service? What had he done? As Cullen continued to speak, he gave thanks to the Maker for skin that hid flushes, and then the Inquisitor announced that she was promoting him to Knight Commander. 

He knelt, because his knees were ready to give out anyways, and tried to protest, but she would hear none of it, and then she was raising him up and standing at his side and the crowd and the Templars – his Templars now – were cheering. She announced that there would be a feast tonight, and then was gone into the crowd and he was being congratulated for what felt like hours by a variety of very important personages from all corners of Thedas. His knees were beginning to feel wobbly again when Josephine appeared at his side. 

“Knight-Commander, if I could have a word, please?” With a nod of her head towards the courtyard, she led him out through the gardens, up a flight of stairs, across several stretches of battlements, and up some more stairs in one of the towers. She opened the doors at the top of the stairs into a suite of rooms that overlooked the main courtyard. “Your new quarters, Knight-Commander. These will be kept for you here. The floors below are reserved for your men.” He barely had time for this to register when there was a throat-clearing noise behind them and he turned to see an incredibly tall and thin man standing in the doorway to one of the suite’s rooms. 

“This is him?” he asked and Josephine nodded. “Excellent! Let’s get started then.” Josephine was gently pushing him forward, he realized, into what looked like a sitting room, strewn with oddly shaped bundles and seemingly filled with people. 

“Get started on what, exactly?” Barris asked, confused.

“Your fitting, Ser Barris.” Josephine sounded even more amused than usual. “Tonight is not a night for armor. This is Cibrán, one of the finest tailors to be found in all of Nevarra, if not all of Thedas. He will make sure you’re well turned out for this evening.” She bowed to both him and the tailor, then slipped away before Barris could object. He turned, and found himself staring at the tailor’s chest. The man moved like a cat, circling him while muttering and looking him up and down. “Good bones. Dark green, I think. And gold. The shoulders may be a problem. Alright, then. Let’s get started. We need to get this armor off for measurements.” He clapped his hands, and everyone in the room converged on Barris and he found himself wishing he was back in Therinfal fighting demons.


	2. The Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ser Barris is presented at a feast in honor of his promotion to Knight-Commander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually finished this! Three chapters in one day. So I'll go ahead and post the entire thing.

After a bewildering afternoon of being measured and fitted and shaved and fitted again, Cibrán pronounced himself satisfied. With another clap of his hands, everything strewn across the room was packed up and carted out, and as the last body filed through the door, Josephine appeared again, carrying a cloth draped tray. 

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” He shook his head, still overwhelmed by the last few hours. She nodded. “I thought not. Here.” She laid the tray on the desk. “This evening may not present much opportunity for actual eating, even though it’s nominally a feast. It won’t be a formal sit-down affair, but more of a gathering and reception, and either The Inquisitor or I will be with you at all times to field awkward questions and provide support. It’s the least we can do, after all, after the way we’ve sprung this on you. You can retire safely after a few hours of shaking hands and smiling. Oh, and the Inquisitor asked me to beg your forgiveness for not being able to greet you, but it’s been quite a day. She thought you might be a bit trepidatious about this evening, though, and asked me to reassure you. You have a few hours to relax, and then someone will come to help you dress and lead you to the great hall when it’s time.”

She bowed and made her way out.  
…  
Josephine had said to relax, but he couldn’t make himself sit still. He did take her advice on the eating, realizing after the first bite that he was starving. Afterwards, he had discovered that while he was in the main hall all his men were now indeed quartered in the tower, and that a good portion of the moving had been done while proclamations were being made in the main hall. He was afraid things would be awkward with his new rank, and was relieved that there was very little difference in his interactions with them, until he realized that it was because they’d already been treating him as their commander. The thought made his knees a bit wobbly again.

He spent the rest of the afternoon taking and reviewing reports, and shortly before dusk one of the men he remembered from this afternoon appeared, with his newly tailored clothes. “Ser Cibrán will have several more ready for you in the next few weeks,” the man told him as he laid out the pieces. “Making them from scratch was not possible in so short a time, so this will have to do.” He fussed over Barris, even making him take the coat off and moving one of the buttons by a fraction, eventually pronouncing it as “passable, I guess,” and then indicated for Barris to follow him to the main hall. They didn’t enter through the courtyard, though. The man led him through a series of hallways to an alcove above and instructed him to wait until he was announced, bowed, and left.

The noise of the waiting crowd was muted to a dull rumble through the door. He tried not to fidget, but he was not used to a high collar, and the jacket was tight enough across the shoulders to restrict his movements. The hallway door opened behind him, and he turned, expecting Josephine again, and was surprised instead to see the Inquisitor. 

“Delrin.”

“Evelyn.” He was grinning like a fool, and couldn’t help it. 

“I hope you can forgive me for springing this on you, but it was generally accepted that if we told you, you’d start running.”

“You’re probably right. This is … not anything I ever expected.”

“There was no other for this. You’ve proven yourself over and again, Delrin.” Her eyes finally left his face. “I see Josephine set Cibrán on you. We have him to thank for the Inquisition’s dress uniforms. I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me, though, for flat out refusing to ever let him put me in a gown.”

“It suits you.” He cast about for anything else to say, but before thought could form a chime sounded.

Evelyn straightened, and reached for his arm, and was suddenly the Inquisitor again. “That’s our cue. One of the inner circle will stay with you all evening. Take drinks only from the servers with red sashes – they’ll make sure you get watered wine. Do lots of smiling and nodding and being noncommittal.” The doors to the balcony opened, and a voice called out, “Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan and Knight-Commander Barris,” and she led him out onto the balcony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I'm sure there'll be more in the series. I definitely know how it's going to end.


	3. Sneaking away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor decides they need a breather, and they escape from the feast together.

The night was a blur. True to her word, Evelyn remained at his side for most of the evening, only leaving when one of her advisors joined them. The few minutes he spent in Lady Morrigan’s company were unnerving, but fortunately she passed him along quickly. He took a copious amount of mental notes for future reference, watching Evelyn and Josephine and Leliana work the crowd. It was a surprise, at first, the skill with which Evelyn manipulated those that approached them, but then he remembered she was born to this, and had been playing the game for most of her life. 

He also came to greatly appreciate the servers that kept his goblet topped off with cool wine-laced water, for with all the bodies packed into the hall the temperature had soared.

There didn’t seem to be any pattern to their movements through the crowd, but suddenly there was empty space besides them and Evelyn took his arm and whispered “Quick – make a break for the door,” and he realized they were on the outskirts of the hall and the exit to the courtyard was just a few paces away. They were just out the doorway into the dark when someone called out after them, and Evelyn said “Run for it!” and pulled him down the stairs. She actually leaped over the edge halfway down the second flight, pulling him along, then pushing him into the shadows underneath the arch. “Shhhhh,” she breathed, and listened for a moment. “I think we’re safe. Maker’s Breath, there’s only so much of that foolishness I can take in one evening.”

“You handle it well, though.”

“Not by choice. I’m much more comfortable handling situations that involve blades in my hands.” She took deep breaths of the fresh air. “We’ll need to head back in soon enough, but I needed a break, and at least a few moments alone with you.”

His heartbeat, which had started to slow after the mad rush out the door, sped up again. “Only a few moments?” he asked. “Because what’s happening upstairs is now how I would to choose to celebrate the promotion you have granted me.” Oh, dear Maker, had he actually just said that? He’d replayed their brief interlude in the hallway at Therinfal in his dreams, but they had never since discussed it, and he had no idea if it had meant anything to her other than a moment of comfort.

His doubts were swept away when she stepped closer, smiling. “Oh, do tell? How would you celebrate?” She raised a hand to trace the line of his jaw, and he took it in his, kissing her palm. Her other hand trailed up his chest and curled around the back of his neck, drawing him even nearer, and her lips were even softer than he remembered. 

After a few minutes, she broke the kiss. “Follow me.” She took his hand and led him through the shadows around the edge of the courtyard. There followed a series of stops and starts as they avoided the various people who were congregated here despite the hour, but that allowed for more kisses in the shadows, and eventually they ended up next to the stables. 

“Wait here,” he was instructed and even though he never took his eyes off her she melted completely into the darkness, leaving him standing next to the wall. She reappeared directly in front of him with blankets in her arms, startling him with another kiss, then beckoned, and he trailed her into the barn and up the ladder into the loft. 

Blankets laid over straw were so much more comfortable than a stone floor and wall, and dress uniforms much more easily shed than armor. The lanterns limned her in light and shadow as she arched above him, crying out his name and he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Then there were the minutes they spent wrapped in each other’s arms afterwards, breathing slowing and perspiration drying, pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist and they had the rest of the night and days ahead. 

The mood was broken when the barn door slammed open and someone walked in. Someones – two male voices, in agreement in their complaints about the feast apparently. He didn’t recognize the voices, but Evelyn obviously did. “It’s Varric and Blackwall. So much for discretion.” She wrapped a blanket around herself and leaned over the edge. “Good evening, gentlemen.” From the sound of it, a chair fell over, and they both swore. “You’ve manage to catch me in a bit of an awkward moment. Would you be willing to give me a few minutes of privacy here?”

There was a long pause, and then Varric spoke. “Inquisitor, did we just catch you canoodling in the hayloft? Who’s the lucky fellow? Or lady?”

“If you don’t get out of here before I find my boots, I will throw them at you, Varric.” She managed to sound and look regal even when wrapped in a horse blanket with bits of straw stuck in her hair. 

“Come on, lad. Let the lady have her moment.” He could hear the grin in Blackwall’s voice, and his burr was even more pronounced than usual. “We’ll head over to the tavern for a bit. If anyone asks, we haven’t seen you.” As they made their way out the door, he heard Blackwall say “Not a word of this in any of your stories, dwarf,” and Varric’s offended response.  


Evelyn laughed, shaking her head. 

“We’d best get back. We’ve probably been missed.” He could hear the regret in his own voice. 

“Someday we’ll have to find an actual bed, and more than a few stolen minutes.” His regret was mirrored in hers as well.

They helped each other back into their clothing. He’d lost a button, the one that had been re-sewn this afternoon. He could probably blame it on the tight shoulders if anyone asked. He was half-expecting Varric and Blackwall to be lurking outside waiting to see who came out, but the immediate area was clear.

They retraced their path back through the courtyard, kisses included, but she led them into a garden entrance and through the back hallways again. The noise of the crowd increased as they made their way in. She pointed him to a dark corner and said “Wait here, count to a hundred, and then go straight through that door and the one beyond it into the hall. I’ll come through from the other side and be with you before anyone has a chance to descend on you.”

She turned to go, turned back again to kiss him one more time, and was gone. He almost forgot to start counting as she disappeared. When it was time, he followed her directions, and she was only a few beats behind him as he re-entered the main hall. 

“Ah, Knight-Commander! There you are. I believe Leliana has another someone we should meet. May I escort you?”

He offered her his arm with a bow, and they made their way back into the crowd together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, with the smut implied. Call me old-fashioned.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally made Evelyn up in the character creator. [It's nice to have a face to go with the story.](http://dbvictoria.tumblr.com/post/114455213333/ive-been-writing-about-evelyn-enough-i-figured-i)
> 
> Feel free to come say hi over on [tumblr](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/).


End file.
